The big death of a small pig

After posting Tuesday I dove again into a few of the collections of the stories of the life of St. Francis, patron saint of the animals and ecology. These tales illustrate a faith which includes compassionate concern for all life on Earth and many address the ways animals were used and misused at the time of Francis.

One I find especially interesting tells of Brother Juniper and a pig. Brother Juniper is described as a young monk feverishly committed to a religious life in the company of his fellow Franciscans, but oddly someone who makes no room for the lives of other creatures so dear to Francis. Visiting a sick monk, Juniper offers to prepare the patient a favorite meal, a roasted succulent pig’s foot, the “comfort food” the patient remembers his mother would make for him when sick as a boy. To do so, Juniper cuts the foot from a living pig and then lovingly prepares the dish while leaving the animal to suffer a slow and painful death. The farmer who discovers his mutilated animal confronts Juniper but finds him to be clueless; the monk is honestly shocked that someone could see what he has done as anything other than an attempt to help a fellow man.

The story does not portray Juniper as an innocent who makes a terrible mistake. To the contrary, he is someone whose awareness and empathy is dangerously, horribly lacking. That is, as told in the context of these tales, the story shows him to be disconnected from the rest of God’s creatures and, as such, from God.

Having realized that Juniper is more ignorant than arrogant and with an animal he can’t save on his hands, the farmer offers to make a meal of the tortured pig for all the Franciscan brothers, and this is where things gets especially interesting. The narrative appears to be on its way to far too simple an ending but takes an unexpected turn when Francis, invited to the feast, refuses to partake and rebukes his followers.

As told in Murray Bodo’s lovely little volume, Tales of St. Francis: Ancient Stories for Contemporary Living, Francis eloquently states: “My brothers, you have gone from bad to worse. First you harmed God’s word and then you killed it. Be careful to eat of this pig with great reverence as if it were the Body of the Lord, for every creature is a word spoken by God. And it is only by God’s leave that we dare to partake of what his word has created. We must, therefore, never kill one of God’s creatures, not even to nourish ourselves, without first asking permission of him whose word the creature is.”

Every creature is a word spoken by God: Now there’s a thought worth exploring, regardless of one’s faith or background or current system of beliefs.